


Teach Me

by ShrimpZilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 03:01:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShrimpZilla/pseuds/ShrimpZilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevelyan has a thing for older men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me

**Author's Note:**

> written for the dragon age kink meme

Trevelyan still wasn’t used to being out of the Circle. There weren’t nearly enough mages to make her feel comfortable. And when she walked the sensation of eyes on her was totally different. She felt separate from everyone and she supposed that had to do with the rumors surrounding her.  
  
She tried to argue that it was because she missed things that were familiar that she found herself sitting and watching Commander Cullen training with the few Templars they had at Haven. And she had to admit it was a small comfort. She smiled as she watched thinking of times that she had her friends had snuck to the secret vantage points that allowed them to peer out at the Templars training at the Circle. It had been fun, something to break up the monotony of Circle life.  
  
When the Commander looked over—maybe feeling her gaze the same way she had always been able to feel the Templars’—she straightened her posture and wiped the comfortable smile from her face as discreetly as possible. He seemed confused to see her there especially considering she was just sitting quietly and watching. He began walking over to her and she was gripped with a hot panic in her gut. She felt creepy, suddenly, for having watched. She didn’t think she would be able to explain that it was just because she was homesick and the ring the Templar’s blades, the weight of their voices, the smell of the lyrium all made her feel better.  
  
“Herald,” he said politely. Standing in front of her as he was Trevelyan had to crane her neck to look up at him. “Were you looking for me?” The steadiness of his voice as his figure cut a silhouette against the sun and the Breach made her nervous. She didn’t want him to think poorly of her. She could imagine the look in his eyes if she were to try to explain herself honestly. All he would see was a silly young girl. The thought sent a chill up her spine.  
  
“Just checking on the recruits. Seeing how everything’s running.” She tried to look at him evenly, hoping that her tone was no-nonsense as it sounded to her. His lips quirked in smirk and called her eyes to the scar, the frown lines, the stubble on his jaw.  
  
“I’m glad to hear you have an interest in the troops.” He gestured at the men still sparring behind him. “These are not the basic recruits, however. These are the Templars that I was able to being with him. There aren’t many of them but I have confidence in their combat abilities. It’s the raw recruits that we’ve gotten—“ He cut himself off, his hand going to the back of his neck. “Ah, you don’t want to hear a lecture about the troops.” To be honest she hadn’t been wholly listening. She’d been staring up at him in what she had hoped looked like rapt attention. He did have her attention though it was more occupied with trying to guess his age. She was certain he was older than her, not a great accomplishment at any rate considering she was only a bit passed twenty.  
  
“No,” she said as she stared up at him all wide-eyes and sweetness,” lecture away.” The Commander smiled that strange little nervous smile that didn’t at all suit the strength that in his voice and his shoulders and his face. She bit the corner of her lip lightly as she waited for his response. Mentally she cringed. What was she doing? This was not like flirting with an enchanter when she was an apprentice. She was grown—mostly—and what was furthermore the situation didn’t really lend itself to it. But even as she thought it her stomach quivered with every informative word he began speaking.

\-- 

  
  
“You need to get some basic melee training in, Herald.” Trevelyan blinked hoping it would obscure the glint of desire she knew must have been there. The Commander generally spoke to her in polite and courteous tones. She only ever heard him barking orders at those below him. Though she wasn’t really certain what other than the fact that Andraste might have blessed her put her on the same level with the Inquisition advisors.  
  
“Why?” She tilted her head slightly and leaned on her stave. She saw the Commander’s eyes dart to the sudden prominence of her hip and had to fight the grin.  
  
“Why? Because you can’t just count on the fact that you’ll be able to keep your enemies at bay with your magic. Sometimes things get through and you don’t have enough time or energy to push them back magically.” She wondered that if Andraste really had sent her if the Maker’s Bride was watching now, shaking her head in disappointment as her herald’s skin broke out in goosebumps as she was being reprimanded. “You need to use your staff as a weapon in every sense. The next time you might not get so lucky.”  
  
“You’re absolutely right, Commander.” And he was. She had come back from the Hinterlands with two broken ribs from where a bandit had gotten too close. He looked at her for a moment as if she had taken the wind from his sails. She bet he probably had a whole speech on the importance of safety and being prepared for anything.  
  
“Well… Good. I’m… glad you understand why it’s so important.” She smiled, hoping he would continue speaking to her in his Commander voice rather than his Advisor voice. By the way he was drawing out the spaces between his words she doubted it.  
  
“Will you practice with me then? It wouldn’t do very well for the soldiers to see the Herald of Andraste getting beat by any run of the mill person.” He nodded eagerly and smiled that boyish smile that somehow made her almost as warm as his authoritative voice.  
  
“It would be my pleasure,” he assured her. She wondered if it was terribly obviously by her face the kind of pleasure she was thinking it could be…

\-- 

  
  
Something about the Commander had stoked her desire. She knew it was the power, the authority, the sheer talent he displayed at leadership and battle. But it was offset by the random bursts of insecurity and nervousness she was able to get out of him. The push and pull power dynamic had been working for her. She almost hated to admit how much it had been working for her considering that she was in control of herself enough to know that this was not the time and place. The Herald of Andraste could not, in all good conscience, jump the bones of the Inquisition forces’ commander.  
  
Then they recruited Blackwall and Trevelyan remembered that sometimes just push worked really well for her too. She also remembered that beards were one of her favorite things.  
  
“Never thought I’d be taking orders from a little girl,” the Gray Warden gruffed. Trevelyan could hear the joke, the good natured ribbing deep within the harsh tones. She didn’t even care about that aspect of it though.  
  
“I’m not really giving anyone orders,” she said innocently. He crossed his arms over his chest and leveled a stern glance at her. She licked her lips and wondered if he had brought his Gray Warden uniform with him. She had seen a picture of it in a book once. Blackwall didn’t really seem the uniform type. Not like the Commander who—Maker help her she was a terrible mage—she had imagined often in the Templar regalia she had seen so many times back home. Something about the fact that Blackwall likely had a uniform and refused to wear it made chest feel a little tighter.  
  
“If you’re not the leader of his organization than you who is then?”  
  
“Cassandra,” she answered quickly. It had been Cassandra who organized everything, recruited them all. Trevelyan wondered what Cassandra would say if she knew about the mage’s little… infatuation with powerful men.  
  
“Pull the other one then,” he barked, rolling his eyes and turning away from her. “Come on, it’s dinner time. And don’t give me any of that not hungry nonsense. You have to eat.” Trevelyan very nearly trembled. Somehow she found the control to just smile and walk after him.

\-- 

  
  
“Will you tell me everything you know about the Gray Wardens?” It was nice getting to mix business and pleasure. After all, she had to learn everything she could about all of these factions. She could have gotten a book about it as she had done with so many things before. But why would she when she had a living, breathing, older Gray Warden to focus her attention on? He sighed as she asked. He always sighed, always seemed put upon by the companionship that the Inquisition was forcing upon him. She tried not to think about him alone in the forest. It made her breathing a little too heavy to casually explain away.  
  
“I suppose I am the expert.” She nodded, running a hand through her hair. “Better get comfortable then.” He sat down in a chair, letting out a low noise as he did it. She wondered if his body ached from all the fighting, all the traveling, all the living he must have done. Trevelyan opted to hoist herself up onto the edge of the table that went with Blackwall’s chair. She crossed her legs at the ankles and swung her feet back and forth slightly. Then he began talking, no… teaching her about the Gray Wardens. She prompted him every now and then with questions which he always answered but never eagerly. That was the thing that really made her squirm. It was almost like he didn’t want to talk about all of this but had to because he was so informed and she desperately needed that knowledge.  
  
Of course, Trevelyan had long ago connected the dots that indicated that what she desperately needed so not knowledge but something a bit less… erudite.  
  
“I’m sure I’ll be able to find those Gray Warden artifacts,” she responded, leaning back on her hands when they had finished their conversation. Blackwall stood and for a moment it looked if he was just going to walk off now that he had finished. Trevelyan was actually disappointed when he didn’t just brush her off. Instead he stood, his knee brushing hers as he took a step loser. Still seated on the table there wasn’t really height difference between them.  
  
“You really are an impressive woman.” The way he was looking at her she couldn’t keep his gaze. Her eyes darted to space between them. Her mouth was dry. “Am I allowed to say that?” He was right on top of her. Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off of his thick chest. She brought her eyes back to make contact. “Or should I just keep admiring you from afar?”  
  
“Admiring?” She repeated, her gaze having slipped to his lips. He leaned forward a fraction.  
  
“Admiring.” Then he pushed off of the table and away from her. She felt cold and hot and utterly confused in the best possible way. Her body whined at her. Her brain was still a few paces behind. Blackwall was already gone by the time she had herself back under control. Or at least under control enough to figure that someone would probably get angry if she took care of herself right there on the table.

\-- 

  
  
“Say, can I ask you a question?”  
  
“Usually I’m the one asking people questions.”  
  
“I know. I figured you seem to love it some much I should give it a try.”  
  
“Should be fun.”  
  
“Are you sleeping with Blackwall? Hm, judging by your face that’s a no. What about Cullen? Another no? Dear woman you are infinitely boring.”  
  
“Dorian, you can’t just ask me something like that and then not elaborate as to why you’re asking me something like that.”  
  
“Hm, oh well. I noticed them both giving me looks. Not the kinds looks I’d be hoping to get from either of them. They’re more ‘I’m going to beat you up, you gorgeous paragon of masculinity’ and ‘why don’t you just kick my puppy while you’re at it, Tevinter ass’ respectively.”  
  
“Can’t they just hate your for reasons that don’t involve me?”  
  
“Has anything lately not involved you? Besides, you’re a lovely woman and I’m a dashingly handsome font of charm. Jealousy is the most obvious choice.”  
  
“Well, I’m not sleeping with either of them.”  
  
“Why not? I doubt they would protest to the arrangement. And don’t even try to tell me you aren’t interested. I saw you squirming when Cullen was yelling the other day about the dangers of… oh, I’m not even going to pretend I remember.”  
  
“I wasn’t squirming for that reason!”  
  
“You were. Pervert.”

\-- 

  
  
Trevelyan was surprised and annoyed when the bar brawl broke out. Some drunken soldier said something dumb to some drunken merchant and the next thing they she knew someone had broken a chair over someone’s back—she wasn’t even sure if that person had even been involved in the dispute. People were yelling, she could hear Sera cheering in the background with Varric, and then Cullen was there taking charge in ceasing the fight. He was corralling the two troublemakers, shouting at them in a way that Trevelyan pretended not to be noticing when she did notice something. The man who had had the chair slammed across his back and crawled up off the floor at some point. He had a shattered bottle in his hand and was making a swift and rather stealthy move towards the back of the Commander’s head.  
  
Her first thought was the light the jerk on fire. She quickly shelved that notion because they were in an establishment of beer and wine soaked wood. For some reason her second thought was punch the guy. She blamed the drinking game Iron Bull had been teaching them. She was standing close enough that it wasn’t a huge leap and in a rather smooth motion she had sidled up and decked the guy across the face. He fell to the ground and Cullen turned around quick enough to see the look of pride at her accomplishment fade into surprise and discomfort as a sharp pain pulsed through her fist.  
  
“Aw, nice shot an’ all! Quizzy! Boom, got more ‘en a little glow to you, eh?” Sera called, tossing her glass over their heads and making contact with the fallen man.  
  
“Are you all right?” Cullen asked, the lines of his face wrought with concern. Trevelyan tried to shake the pain out of her hand and the winced as the sharp motion caused more pain.  
  
“I don’t think I did it right,” she confessed as she wrapped the fingers of her uninjured hand around her wrist to support it. “Unless punches are always equal parts pain for both parties.”  
  
“Do you need someone to kiss it better?” Iron Bull laughed. Cullen turned his attention to the members of the Inquisitor’s inner circle that were present.  
  
“That’s quite enough of this. Bull, take these men to the cells. A night in there sleeping off their stupidity is a good start to their punishment. Varric, Sera, get things back to normal in here. I’m taking the Inquisitor to get her wrist bandaged.” Without saying anything Trevelyan walked to where her staff was propped against the chair she had been sitting in. She went to pick it up so they could leave as Cullen had instructed. “No,” he stated. She pulled her hand back and allowed him to take it. His free hand he placed on her back and used the slightest bit of a push to get them moving out of the tavern.  
  
“Well that ain’t any fair now, is it?” She heard Sera complaining as she stepped shakily out in to the night. She was having a hard time figuring out if she was shaking from the pain in her hand, the cold of the air, or the pressure from the Commander’s hand as if drifted down her spine to rest on the small of her back.

\-- 

  
  
A bandage and a small frost spell and she was good to go. She had had enough injuries at this point that it wasn’t the actual pain that had affected her but more the surprise. She had never thrown a punch before and her only experience with them was either watching from a safe distance or being the one on the receiving end. She just never would have thought it was really something that required proper form. Magic and sword-fighting absolutely. Punching a drunken idiot in the face? That was news to her.  
  
“You really didn’t have to walk me to my quarters,” Trevelyan said. He had removed his hand from her back when they had gotten the bandages and hadn’t put it back. She was disappointed. It had been the most arousing contact she had had with anyone other than herself in a long while. Though really… that was pathetic and she felt worse about herself for even mentally admitting it.  
  
“I do. You punched that lout because I was too busy shouting like a barbarian to notice.” They had reached the main door to her quarters. Cullen reached across to grab the doorknob from where she had been ready to use her good hand to. In the narrow stairway his movement pressed her up against the railing leaving her trapped between it, the door, and his body. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. “Why would you punch someone if you didn’t know how?” He asked.  
  
“I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t know,” she said breathily. She could smell the frost in the air still clinging to his clothes. She watched as he swallowed, maybe for the first time noticing their proximity, and turned the knob. He pushed the door open but made no move to enter. Neither did she.  
  
“Someone should have taught you basic hand to hand fighting by now.” His brows were drawn together with disapproval and concern. The lines he got in his forehead when he was agitated or worried drawing her eye. She was still shaking. Or rather she had started again now that every breath brought her chest almost within contact of his.  
  
“Teach me,” she whispered as she brought her injured hand up and rested it on his face. Her fingers in his hair and her thumb rubbing away the worry lines that were etched so deep. She felt his skin grow hot, felt the startled intake of breath.  
  
For a moment Trevelyan wondered if she had crossed the line, if he was just going to excuse himself and then avoid her in the morning. Then the hand that was holding her staff came up and shoved her by her shoulder through the bedroom door. Not a rough shove, but enough to get her stumbling in and get her insides spinning. The door shut and before she had a moment to do anything she felt hands on her sides gripping and then hoisting her so that she was over his shoulder.  
  
“Cullen?” She said, surprised but not unhappy.  
  
“Don’t talk,” he commanded. The fact that she didn’t come right then and there was the first thing that had worked in her favor all day. Roughly, but again not rough enough to actually hurt her, Cullen tossed her onto the bed. She bounced and then pulled herself into a sitting position, her lip caught tight between her teeth as she stared up at him eagerly. Her staff had been dropped somewhere along the way but she didn’t really care about that. The fire was burning down so she couldn’t see him all that clearly and that she did really care about.  
  
“Cullen—“ She started to say. He pointed a finger at her and she clapped her mouth shut against the rest of the sentence.  
  
“What did I say?”

He brought one of his knees onto the bed and leaned over her, pushing her back down with his body. With one hand his cradled her face. With the other he brought her uninjured hand above her head and held it there, two fingers wrapped around the wrist in a tight ring. She took a deep, shuddering breath that brought her breasts up to his chest. He took his own breath then and swallowed loudly. She wondered if she had been too obvious, if he had figured out what things he did that made her most aroused. She didn’t want him to do anything he wasn’t comfortable with. She opened her mouth to tell him but she never got the chance. He shoved his mouth against hers rough and hard and kissed her deep and desperate. “Are you ready to listen?” He rasped into her ear when their kiss broke. She nodded dumbly, the press of muscles against her and the feel of the command in his voice making it hard to concentrate on the actual words. “Tell me what you want me to do,” he ordered. He removed his hand from her wrist and let it run over the length of her body. He squeezed her hip tightly before running back up again resting by her chest, his thumb rubbing between their bodies across her nipple.  
  
She could think of a million thing she wanted him to do to her. First starting with her nipple and then ending with… well, this could be a long night. But as Cullen had finally fallen into his role as commander with her she too had a role to fill. So she didn’t tell him all the places she wanted him to shove his face. She didn’t tell him to turn her over onto her stomach and take her from behind. She wrapped her arms around his neck and arched up into him, pushing herself against the hardness she found in his pants.  
  
“Teach me,” she repeated with her lips against his ear, her tongue darting out to cup the lobe before she continued, “Teach me how to fuck you, Commander.”  
  
Cullen was a very good teacher.

\-- 

  
  
When he orders her to get undressed she does. She kneels on the bed with a straight back, her body bare and watches him appraise her. She goes to move an arm to cover her breasts suddenly insecure and wanting to make excuses for the inadequacies she sees on herself. He grabs her hand away and holds it, for a moment, tenderly. Their fingers twine and he rubs his thumb over her knuckles. She bites her lip and waits as he releases her hand and takes his own clothes off.  
  
They kiss and their hands rove wildly. His body is hard, all muscles and scars. It’s nothing like anything she’s ever been pressed up against before. It’s wonderful. Her hands don’t reach far down enough to grab the one part of his body that most interests her. Instead she grinds up into it trying to find her own release while testing his arousal. He groans loudly and pulls back.  
  
He commands her to be on top and she gladly obliges. There’s a moment of fumbling in the poor light, testing how far, how deep, how quick she can take him in. The fumbling doesn’t seem to bother him. Beneath her he pants readily, his fingers kneading her hips and buttocks. Once she’s sheathed him he seems to find another level of control. He holds her tightly, instructing her on how fast and how slow, how hard and how light, when to kiss him and when to throw her head back and moan.  
  
One of his hands leaves her hip and presses that special bundle of nerves. She jerks wildly at the added sensation. “Fuck,” she hisses happily. His other hand leaves her hip and she feels him swat her backside. Lightly, tentatively, but enough.  
  
“Don’t curse,” he says. She pushes into him hard and shakes her head.  
  
“Oh ,shit, Cullen,” she gasps. Pulling him along with her down this road and encouraging him that everything he’s done so far is right, very very right. He slaps her ass again, harder this time and she can feel herself start to unravel.  
  
“Fuck, I’m going to—“ She doesn’t finish. Or rather, she does. He brings his hand down again on the already prickling skin and she goes over the edge. She’s on her back in a second and he’s pumping away at a hectic speed, hurrying towards his own end. She wonders if he was waiting for her to go first.

 

\--

  
“Saw you sneaking back to your room this morning, Commander.”  
  
“Sneaking? I’m afraid you must be mistaken.”  
  
“Finally give her what she wanted, then? She look at you one too many times with those dirty, innocent little girl eyes?”  
  
“Oh, that is a very good description of them…”  
  
“I decided I was too much older than her, though I don’t think it bothered her a bit. I figure a girl from the Circle Tower probably has some daddy issues. Did you spank her good?”  
  
“Warden Blackwall! I’m not talking about what I might or might not have done with the Inquisitor.”  
  
“Suit yourself. Bet she’s got a lot of kinks though. Bet she likes in public.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“You know, pressed up in some dark corner with her skirts up around her hips. That’s how they do it in the Tower, isn’t it?”  
  
“Oh, Maker preserve me.”


End file.
